


Zoology

by shrift



Series: A Picture is Worth 1000 Words [8]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Community: picfor1000, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrift/pseuds/shrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold Kingfisher's nanny services came with impeccable references.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zoology

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by Nestra. Written for [A Picture is Worth 1000 Words](http://community.livejournal.com/picfor1000/). My [assignment](http://www.flickr.com/photos/benheine/4016574134/lightbox/).

The next time they had a child in their care, they had a more practiced hand. Mr. Reese even baby-proofed the grenades on his own initiative.

Their new number was Sarah, a nanny in Park Slope with two young charges. A man on his own couldn't stake out playgrounds and family-friendly restaurants without attracting unfavorable attention, not even someone as handsome as Mr. Reese.

Luckily, a Mrs. Moyle of Mamaroneck had a pressing need for childcare for her daughter Emma as her regular nanny was on vacation and Mrs. Moyle needed to fly to Brisbane immediately. Her husband had been admitted to hospital there for emergency surgery. Harold Kingfisher's nanny services came with impeccable references.

"Good thing I kept the Baby Bjorn," Harold said as he strapped it on John.

John eyed him. "Yes. Why did you, Harold?"

"You know me," Harold said. "I don't like to get rid of things that are useful."

They went to the Prospect Park Zoo while tailing Sarah. It turned out that Emma was terrified of emus. In response to Emma's red face and screams, John said, "I think I like this kid. She's got good instincts."

Harold cuddled Emma close and let her tears soak his necktie. "I hadn't known about your grudge against emus, Mr. Reese."

"They're a little too inquisitive." John nodded in Sarah's direction. "Time to go."

He took Emma and put her in the carrier with much more ease than he'd first handled Leila, like she was a package that he couldn't identify, and didn't know why it was there or what he was meant to do with it, or why it wouldn't stop looking at him like that.

At the playground the next day, they brought Bear and settled on a bench near Sarah. Cloning her phone hadn't yielded much useful information, and they both felt better keeping a close watch whenever children were involved.

"She's beautiful," Sarah said after a moment. She seemed like a good kid, desirous, perhaps, of conversation with adults rather than toddlers.

"Thank you," Harold said. Emma had dark, curly hair and blue eyes, and was remarkably well-behaved for a baby. "I guess it's a good thing that we don't have to worry about her taking after me."

John took his hand. "We should be so lucky."

Bear leaned against Harold's knee and drooled on his pants. Harold fed Bear one of the dog treats that John tended to keep in his jacket pockets.

"We don't get too many dads here," Sarah said. "It's nice. How old is she?"

"Thirty-one weeks," Harold said.

A child screeched on the playground, and Sarah was up and jogging away. "That's my cue! Excuse me."

In the ensuing silence, Emma threw her plush giraffe to the ground and clapped her hands.

Harold and John looked at the giraffe. Bear nosed at the toy and raised his brow inquisitively.

"So much for our well-behaved baby," Harold said.

John tilted his head in thought. "I've done worse."

"Please don't encourage her delinquency," Harold said.

The next day found them at another zoo following Sarah at a sedate pace past the African Plains. John was in charge of Emma, Harold was in charge of the diaper bag, and Emma was in charge of Harold's right index finger. Unfortunately, they were attracting some attention from the group that immediately followed them, four women closer to Harold's age who were escorting their grandchildren.

John's face indicated that he was attempting to express amusement and failing, instead appearing preternatural and smug. He'd spent so many years divorcing himself from emotion that John's face no longer rendered them correctly. It was endearing, and Harold occasionally devoted spare thought to how John would fare with the Voight-Kampff machine.

"They think we're an odd couple," John said, pressing his hand to the small of Harold's back. 

"Is that because you're a very odd man, Mr. Reese?"

"Look, Emma," John deflected. "Zebras."

Emma pushed away Harold's fingers and burbled nonsense. John pressed his nose to her temple. It was a sweet gesture that made him uncomfortable.

"There's no need to be coy. I know that we don't exactly blend in this crowd," Harold said as they all stared at the Grevy's zebras. The smell of manure and ammonia pricked at Harold's nose. "And this time, don't try to blame it on my pocket square."

"Zebras can't change their stripes," John said.

"Interesting you should say that. The stripes act as pattern camouflage. Lions are colorblind and the stripes help them blend with each other, with the grass. They make it difficult for lions to target prey. Not only that, but stripe patterns are like fingerprints. It's how they recognize each other. New research even indicates that the stripes disrupt light patterns to deter tabanids." Harold glanced at John and clarified, "Particularly horseflies and tsetse flies. So you see, Mr. Reese, not being able to change your stripes sometimes can be a good thing."

John's mouth twitched. "I'd prefer to avoid sleeping sickness."

Harold eyed him. Even now, he sometimes found John's sense of humor baffling. "Most people do."

Sensing that she'd lost their attention, Emma tossed her plush giraffe to the ground again and followed it with a plastic keyring. She laughed and waved her arms. Harold went to retrieve the toys, but John touched his shoulder and bent at the knees. John's knee popped on the way back up. Harold pointedly said nothing.

They turned around to see Detective Carter watching them, her hands on her hips.

"Please tell me you did not steal that baby," Detective Carter said.

"I'd protest that you should have more faith, but I must admit there is precedent," Harold said.

"I see you got our message," John said.

"I don't think you understood me just now."

"The baby is in our care with the full knowledge and consent of her mother," Harold said.

Carter didn't seem appeased. "Full knowledge. Really."

"No Amber Alert," John offered.

Carter sighed. "I'll take it."


End file.
